Page 4 of Linenfold (The Alice Chronicles #4)

‘I can’t answer that, Alice. But we are saddled with His Grace who looks ever to increase his own power and influence. Worse, he thinks himself a fine ambassador.’

‘Will it come to war, do you think?’

Jack spreads his hands. ‘It amazes me how patient and conciliatory Cardinal Richelieu has been. Of course, he has troubles enough internally, trying to bring all the different factions of French nobles to heel. I hope against hope that the forced loan will never happen. But I should warn you, it will be me coming to you for money if it does.’

‘You mean because you are a justice?’

‘For my sins.’

‘Well,’ she says, dusting her fingers of cake crumbs, ‘I am thankful at least that Sir Malcolm is not a justice. He would take great delight in demanding money of me.’ Sir Malcolm Wipley, coroner, has never seen eye to eye with Alice, mainly because of an old feud between himself and her late husband.

‘I was hoping you and I dealt with that between us.’

‘After Henry died, yes. But we neither of us thought it was resolved, did we? On the odd occasion I have met him in Guildford he does his best to snub me.’

‘I have heard it said, the larger the hat the smaller the man,’ Jack says.

Alice laughs. ‘And his hat is one of the largest I have ever seen!’ It is always a tonic to speak with Jack Egerton, even when it is about threatening news.

‘So, going back to what you were saying, your return to London. Is it to add your arguments to the debate about a forced loan? If debate it is and not decree?’

‘No, it’s another matter.’ He is silent a few moments, thinking. She waits. After a few moments, ‘I tell you this in confidence, of course, Alice.’

Something of a serious and private nature or Jack would not place conditions. ‘You need fear no indiscretion from me.’

‘No, I know. You may have some fresh thoughts that could cast new light on it.’ He takes a pull at his ale, lowers the mug to his lap and for a few moments runs a finger to and fro along the fine incised ring a finger’s width from the base.

The fire crackles, putting forth a comforting warmth.

Alice is glad of the excuse to stay a little longer.

‘The thing is,’ Jack says, ‘a young courier has gone missing. One of Buckingham’s creatures. ’

She has guessed for some time that Jack’s work in London probably involves him in the shadows of His Majesty’s court, that what Olivia has been able to tell her is only the stem, as it were, the roots of which spread far beneath the surface.

‘I didn’t know you worked for Buckingham.’

‘I don’t. I observe those he places to leak information to him.’

‘You act on the King’s behalf?’

‘Not directly but yes, I work for the throne. I keep watch on those who would use it to further their own aims.’

‘You do not trust His Grace?’

Jack shrugs but says nothing. Small wonder he has sworn her to discretion. In the wrong ears, this talk is treasonous.

‘This courier,’ she says. ‘You fear he has fallen into hostile hands? He, or she?’

‘He. He’s in a sensitive position.’

‘How long has he been missing?’

‘A few weeks now. Last month he was sent to the French Court. A simple enough task. We know he arrived there, but he hasn’t returned and there’s no trace of him at the ports.

I cannot formally institute enquiries because officially I don’t know he’s overdue, far less that he’s working for Buckingham. Discreet enquiries have led nowhere.’

‘Does he have family? Are they seeking him?’

‘A few years ago his father obtained him a position at court for his excellent grasp of French, but his father is since dead. His mother lives quietly at home. She may not even know he’s missing.’

Alice struggles to understand how someone can go missing without anyone apparently noticing. ‘A court position? But surely that in itself is sufficient for a search to be made?’

‘He’s a page. They’re considered either potential future councillors or simply lads making the best of the opportunities to ally with a lady of rank.

In short, fortune-hunters. So they play the game and if not successful they go their ways, often without notice.

If they have no patron at court, there is no one to raise a hue and cry. ’

‘Knowledge of French, you say? Who is his master?’

‘Mistress, actually. Buckingham appointed him page to Her Majesty earlier this year. Lewis was one of the few who survived the purge when the King chased away most of her French following in August.’

‘I heard about that. They say her entourage was driven out of Somerset House without notice.’

‘The King sent Buckingham to do his dirty work. Or perhaps Buckingham volunteered. He rounded them up like a herd of wild beasts. The King, I have to say it, to his disgrace, helped in the background. One of our people saw him dragging the Queen away from a window when she tried to speak with them.’

‘How could he? And she only, what, fifteen? Sixteen? Friendless in a foreign land.’ Her anger spills over. ‘All I hear of Charles is his weakness, his intransigence! Why do you—?’ She stops herself. ‘I’m sorry.’ But he answers her anyway.

‘It’s the throne I work for, Alice. I protect it as best I can. Depending on its incumbent, that sometimes involves difficult situations.’

‘The French must have considered reprisals?’

‘It could have been very nasty. Fortunately for all of us Richelieu maintained his calm, refused to be drawn, and negotiated for the Queen to have a small French following. Buckingham kept Lewis in place to translate, carry her Majesty’s messages, that sort of thing.’

‘Lewis is the page?’

‘Lewis Cargill, yes.’

‘Surely the Queen herself must be asking questions, demanding a search be made?’

‘You would think so, yes,’ Jack says. ‘But she is so out of favour with His Majesty that she is often left isolated, ignored. Any questions she asks are likely to be blocked by Buckingham’s wife, mother and sister who have been placed close around her.’

‘Doesn’t His Grace of Buckingham want to know where this Lewis is?’

‘He shows no signs of sending out searchers, so I suspect he knows. And I want to know what he’s up to.’

‘So what was Lewis Cargill doing when he disappeared?’

‘Carrying a message for Her Majesty. Part of her dowry is still in France and she asked him to collect her set of four fruit trenchers.’

‘Jack, without divulging what you may not tell me, do you know if there was anything in that message that could be dangerous to this young man?’

‘Not at all. I understand the Queen referred him to the Comtesse de Tillières who was her most trusted confidante in her original entourage, before their rough ejection back to France.’

‘Heavens! The things you know. I won’t ask how.’

‘The Comte is brother-in-law to the Maréchal de Bassompière who advises her brother.’

‘King Louis?’

‘Indeed.’

‘The question in my mind,’ she says, ‘is, did the Queen really want these trenchers, or was this whole situation concocted by Lord Buckingham?’

‘We think she was persuaded to send Lewis so that his journey appears to be at her request.’

‘While in fact he is to carry a message from the duke to someone else?’ She frowns. ‘Couldn’t the Queen’s request have gone by letter on the usual packet boat? It seems excessive to send your page all that way for a few trenchers.’

‘Not when they’re gold.’ Jack smiles. ‘You can’t just drop them in a bag and hand them to the captain of the packet. For all we know Lewis could have been set upon and the trenchers stolen. But my feeling is, the trenchers are a blind. What I want to know is what else he is doing, for Buckingham.’

‘Gold trenchers!’ she exclaims. ‘What it is to be a queen. If she’d sent me, I’d have hidden them in my skirts and crept back to England long since. But that’s of no help to you. I confess I don’t know what to think.’

The door opens and Olivia enters. She is pale and hollow-eyed, dressed in a loose-gown, no lacing.

Her thick dark hair, lacking its usual lustre, is lightly twisted into a braid and pinned up.

She treads slowly, carefully, as though sudden movement is painful.

Jack quickly rises, hastening towards her.

‘My dear, I didn’t know you were thinking to get up today. ’

Olivia sits down and smiles at him. ‘I do feel better and I would rather be up and about than lying idle. So, Alice, has he told you the saga of the Queen’s woes?’

‘He has, including the missing page and Her Majesty’s gold trenchers.’

‘Poor thing,’ Olivia says. ‘She must feel like a prisoner there at Somerset House, hedged in by My Lord of Buckingham’s family.’

‘Exactly what I was just saying to Alice.’

‘I know the King is only in his mid-twenties, but he really should be more understanding of her extreme youth. Acting like a stern father can only arouse her resentment.’ Olivia turns to her friend. ‘Alice, you will stay for midday meal?’

‘I’d love to, Olivia, but I must get back before it comes on to rain again.

In any event, I have spent long enough in gossip, and Maureen will surely manage to burn a pie or break a pot if I don’t get back to keep an eye on her cooking.

I am glad to see you up, Olivia,’ as she moves to embrace her friend.

‘I will leave you in peace, but I shall come again soon. Especially as Sam has just now been invited to stay with Robert and Cicely for a day or two. Send me word if he becomes a burden with his endless questions, will you? Cicely is very accommodating but—’

‘Cicely is very fond of Sam, as are we all,’ Olivia says. ‘You need have no qualms.’

‘Which reminds me, Olivia,’ Jack says, ‘did you mention my cousin coming?’

‘No, my dear.’ Olivia’s look is bland, innocent. ‘I thought you would wish to describe the particular circumstances of her visit yourself.’

‘Ah.’ Jack looks sheepish. ‘The truth is, Juliana is in disgrace. My uncle has asked us to have her here for a space to mend her ways, so I’m off to collect her when Olivia is well enough, and bring her down here.’

‘Heavens, what happened?’ Alice asks.

‘She’s overstepped the mark, apparently.’

Olivia clarifies. ‘There was a heavily enamoured young man and Juliana enjoyed the attention rather more than her parents liked. Especially when they have other plans for her future, which Juliana is resisting. She is being sent here to learn modesty and womanly ways, or so I’m told.

I don’t know about that, but if nothing else it will allow the dust to settle in London. ’

‘She sounds a handful,’ Alice laughs. ‘But I feel for her over the parental plans. And now I really must go.’

‘You will accompany Alice back to High Stoke, Jack?’

‘No need, Jack,’ Alice tells him. ‘It’s only a step.’

‘I shall see you back,’ Jack says. ‘Don’t want you disappearing as well.’

Hardly likely, Alice thinks, the size of me at the moment.